Happy Thanksgiving
by DJ Nox
Summary: Producers fic. Max and Leo celebrate Thanksgiving. Dysfunctional families and exploding turkeys, what else can go wrong? PG for some slash content. MaxLeo.


_"Happy Thanksgiving"_

Author's note: Hoo boy. This is the latest Producers fic I've actually written, but the first I've actually felt good enough about to publish. I've got about three or so other, shorter fics written…I might post them sometime soon if I spruce them up. I have about 17 pages, front and back, of my english notebook just full of Max/Leo slashiness. Got to love end-of-the-year-boredness in school. So yeah…I believe I'm the second author to publish a Producers fic on this site. Many thanks to Madam Luna for being the first. Your fics inspired me to write my own.

This here fanfic is dedicated to Roger Bart, the best Leo I've gotten the chance to actually see. He's amazing, and a perfect Leo in my eyes. Unfortunately he is leaving the show June 13th to make way for Hunter Foster. We'll miss you, Roger.

----

"I can't believe you're making me go through with this," Leo groaned, as he sat on a couch in Max's large, rather posh apartment. It was the fourth Thursday of November, a day he had come to fear with all his being. At least, when he was younger. He had thought it was all over, but no… "You know, there's a reason I haven't had any contact with my family for the past few years."

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," Max called from the kitchen. "When we got together, we agreed to share every aspect of our lives. Now, I have to have a family Thanksgiving dinner every year to prove to my parents that I at least have SOME morals left. If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at my mother. She's the one who suggested we invite your family, too."

Leo sighed, holding his head in his hands. "so now we have to deal with cooking a good enough Thanksgiving dinner for everyone, and putting up with two dysfunctional families, all the while making sure they don't find out…you know. About us."

Max popped his head out of the kitchen, grinning. "Aww, mommy and daddy wouldn't like it if they found out that their son was, oh, how to put it…a sparkly fairy boy?"

"I'm NOT gay! Damnit! We've gone over this before! I'm not attracted to men, I'm just attracted to you, but that doesn't mean that I'm-"

"Oh, so then what are you? Maxsexual? Ooh, I think I like the sound of that…"

Leo's face turned a rather pretty shade of pink at that. "Shut up, just shut up."

"Oh, and by the way, you didn't _have_ to invite your parents. It was merely a, ah, suggestion."

"Suggestion?! You…bribed me!"

"And WHAT a bribe," Max said as he headed back into the kitchen.

"Don't remind me," Leo muttered, rubbing his wrists. "Some of the red marks still haven't faded."

----

Turkey is a food dish that is fairly easy to make. As it has become such a staple food item for the holidays, preparation has become rather simple. All one really has to do is toss on some seasonings and pop it in the oven.

Only a genius or a complete idiot can manage to make a turkey explode.

Max was thinking the former, Leo, the latter.

"I think we just broke some kind of record," Max said in awe.

"For what, complete and utter stupidity?" Leo grumbled, trying to pick the pieces of meat out of his hair. "Only you, Max, can pull off something like this."

"And I'm damn proud of it," Max remarked, standing up and looking around. "So now. We have three hours in which to clean up the kitchen, buy a new turkey, and cook it _correctly_ this time. You clean, and I'll go out and get another turkey."

"Me?!" Leo cried out. "You're the one who managed to blow up the turkey, not me!"

"You need to learn how to be an obedient housewife."

"…take that back, or I'll _make _you take that back."

". . . . . . ."

"…on second thought, no. You'd enjoy that."

----

On hour later, Leo and Max were staring, mouths ajar, at a turkey.

A live turkey.

A smiling Ulla was standing next to it.

"Leo and Max ask Ulla to go get turkey, so Ulla pick out best turkey she can find!" she chirped in her heavily accented voice.

Leo and Max just continued staring blankly for several moments.

"…why?!" Leo finally asked, nearly hitting his head against the wall.

Max slowly looked up. "Personally, I don't even want to ask why, but HOW?! Where the hell do you find a live turkey in New York City?! You know what, forget it. I don't even want to know. Let's just kill it," he said, grabbing a rather large butcher knife that oh-so-conveniently was lying nearby.

Leo quickly grabbed the knife, horrified, and smacked Max's hand. "How could you even think of doing that?! It's a live animal, you can't just kill it!"

"Why not?!"

"That's animal cruelty!"

"But you eat it anyway!"

"It's already dead then!"

"It probably suffered a worse fate than getting its head chopped off!"

"So?! It wasn't by our hands!"

"Too bad! We need to cook this damn buzzard, so give me that knife!"

"No!"

"Give it to me!"

"No, you fat walrus!"

"…you do realize you're paying dearly for that statement later."

"Damnit!!!"

----

About an hour and one escaped turkey later, the two poor, unfortunate souls were attempting to finish up the side dishes. Most of the directions were simple enough: Take out of box, place in water, set to boil…things like that. But after Leo succeeded in turning the stuffing into a nice little crispy cube, Max decided to kick him out of the kitchen as he himself attempted to prepare the last turkey they managed to find at the supermarket, one that looked like it had gotten clubbed to death.

Leo was meanwhile pacing the living room nervously. Everything that was going wrong was going wrong. Murphy's Law was attached to him like he was to his blanket. To further prove that, the doorbell rang. Leo froze.

"Uh, Max…?"

"You get it, I'm busy here."

"But I-"

"Get it!"

Leo sighed, went to the door, and opened it. Standing there was a middle aged (well, in the fifties, anyway) couple, the man looking rather sullen, the woman, overjoyed.

"…Hi mom, hi dad," Leo mumbled meekly.

His mother launched herself into a hug, practically squeezing the oxygen out of Leo. "Leopold! It's been so long! Oh, how we've missed you! How have you been? Are you eating right? Are you married?" she rambled as Leo struggled to breathe.

"I'm fine, mom, I'm fine! I'm not a kid anymore!"

About five minutes later, the three were sitting in the living room, Leo's dad grilling him with questions.

"Where do you work?"

"Um…well, at my office. I'm a producer."

"What? Weren't you going into accounting?"

"Well, yes, but…things changed."

"How much are you making?"

"-sigh- A lot. Enough to live extremely comfortably."

"Where are you living?"

'…oh, crap.'

"Well?"

"Um…here with my friend and business partner…uh, you see, the building I used to live in got, er…torn down…so um…he offered me a place to stay…until…I get a new place…yeah…"

"Why aren't you married? You're 29. Don't you even have a girlfriend?"

"Uh…no…not really…"

"Why not?!"

"I…had one…but we, um, broke up a few months ago. Too many…differences…"

"I expect you to be married by the time you're 32."

"Er…okay…?"

It was at this time that Max walked out of the kitchen. He had heard the conversation and was utterly amused by it all. Leo glanced up, smiling nervously. He stood up and motioned to Max.

"Um…mom, dad, this is Max Bialystock, my best friend and business partner…"

Introductions were made, greetings were done, the usual. Luckily for Leo, Max was trying his best to spare him from the onslaught of questions about his life by answering some of them himself. Unluckily for Leo, Max was Max.

"Yes, he did have a girlfriend…a gorgeous Swedish blond knockout, at that…real idiot for letting that catch go…yeah, he still has that damn blanket…still keeps it with him all the time…the hysterics are rarer now, but they still happen…"

Leo cleared his throat loudly and shot Max a glare. "Max, why don't you check on the food? I think it needs your attention more," he seethed, teeth clenched.

"But I'm having such a wonderful time talking to your parents!" Max said, grinning.

Short term relief came in the form of the doorbell ringing. Max stood up and went over to the door, opening it.

"So how many old ladies did it take to get this apartment, huh, sonny?" asked the man standing at the door. He was elderly, but not frail…really, he looked like one of those old men you'd see at a bar during happy hour.

Max laughed and pulled him into a quick hug. "Nice to see you too, dad. And to answer your question, all of this was gotten off of pure profit.

"Really. I'm surprised. Seems that you managed to get some morals."

"By the way, where's mom?"

"Sick. Don't even ask."

"…if you insist."

More introductions were made, more greetings were done. Some time passed, and everything _seemed _to be going fine.

"What the hell happened to that turkey?"

Or not.

"Um, it's a really long story."

Of course, things could only go from bad to worse.

"It's ridiculous that they're taking prayer out of public schools," Leo's mother remarked at one point in the conversation. "It's stripping children of their morals."

Max's father raised an eyebrow. "What the hell's some mumbled words of a religion most of them probably don't even care about gonna do for them? Morals my ass. Religion does nothing for them except make them believe there's a big guy in the sky shaking his finger at them when they steal a candy bar. They don't care either way."

"How can you even think such a thing? Religion is necessary for children! The bible teachings, the rules….without them, they could never grow up to be moral human beings! Are you even Christian?"

"No, lady, I'm agnostic. I believe in the big guy when I need something from him."

"gasp How could you?!"

Leo took this time to stand up, clearing his throat. "I, uh, need to go into the kitchen to check something. Be back soon," he mumbled before dashing out.

"…I better go too," Max said hurriedly before following him into the kitchen. He found Leo in the corner, caressing his face with his blue blanket.

"Everything is going wrong, everything…" he groaned as he heard the argument continuing in the living room. "I knew this would happen. My parents are ultra right wing conservative religious fanatics. The second prayer was brought up, I knew everything was going to just go to ruins. I can't take this anymore…"

Max walked over to Leo, wrapping his arms around him. "Shh, it'll be alright. One more hour, and it'll be all over."

"I can't last another hour!"

"Neither can I. Not only because of this all, but…I miss you."

"…but I'm right here."

"No, Leo. I _miss _you."

"… … . . . . Is that all you can think about at a time like this?!?"

"…maybe…"

"I can't believe you."

"Give me something to tide me over until later?"

"No!"

"Please? Just a little something?"

Leo sighed. "fine, fine," he mumbled as he moved closer, kissing Max lightly. Max, being Max, decided to take advantage of this and pulled Leo even closer, deepening the kiss. Leo really didn't offer too much of a complaint, even when Max's hands found their way under his shirt.

The two had just been getting comfortable…well, _very _comfortable when suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. They quickly broke apart to see a very amused Bialystock Sr. and a very pissed off Bloom Sr. standing at the doorway, a broken wineglass now on the floor.

"Well, that explains a lot," Max's father remarked.

Unluckily for Leo, his own father was not as amused.

"What is the meaning of this, Leopold?!?!"

"…Uh…I can…explain…?"

----

Once again, the two families were gathered in the dining room, an entire range of feelings being felt.

Leo: Fear.

Max: Weariness.

Max's father: Amusement.

Leo's mother: Confusement.

Leo's dad: Murderous rage.

"I did NOT raise my son to become…this!"

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"He and his…friend…argh! Leopold, how can you do this to use?!"

"…I'm sorry…?"

"What did he do?!"

"He…and his friend…in the kitchen…making out…like damn animals…!"

"Making…what? They were making something? I don't see anything wrong with that. Cranberry sauce, maybe?"

". . . . . . ."

"No! He's…agh…!"

"He's WHAT? I don't understand!"

"I hate to break it to you, Mrs. Bloom, but our sons are obviously involved with one another."

"Well, yes, I know that, they're friends!"

"-sigh- Not just that. They're sleeping with each other."

"…what?"

"They're gay. Your son is gay."

"…I know that. And I'm gay for him! I don't understand…"

"…Not THAT meaning. I hate to be blunt, but: They're involved romantically. They're sleeping with each other, as in having sex, probably every night, and knowing how my son is, every day as well. They're in love. They're lovers. LOVERS. Like Romeo and Juliet, only not as pure and innocent. Your son is gay, as in, he's _attracted to men_."

"…way to be blunt, pops."

"For the last time, I'm NOT gay!!!"

"Leo. Are you in love with my son?"

"…Uh…yeah."

"Then you're gay."

"But---"

"The sooner you admit it, the sooner life goes on."

"Leopold….is this…TRUE…?!"

"I…well…yeah, mom…"

"Oh my god…I can't…Oh my…my SON…is…"

"Mom, I'm sorry! But I can't help it!"

"Have you ignored everything we had ever taught you? Do you not remember the Bible's teachings, Leopold?! This is a SIN, a SIN!"

"Mom, you're making me nervous…"

"You'd go to HELL for this! HELL, Leopold!!! And PUT AWAY THAT CONFOUNDED BLANKET!"

"…But I like it…"

"I can't believe this is happening. That's it. We're leaving. I can't even put words together right now. Don't even try to contact us," Leo's father said angrily as he stood up and proceeded to drag his wife, still rambling about fire and brimstone, out of the apartment.

"I wasn't planning to!" Leo shouted as the front door slammed shut. He sighed. "I knew this was going to happen."

Max's father patted Leo on the shoulder consolingly. "It's okay, kid. Be thankful you're still alive, at least."

"I guess…"

"Well, I ought to get going," he said, standing up. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Leo. I'd ask you to make sure Max didn't do anything stupid, but to do that, you'd have to kill him. So…just try and keep him out of trouble. Even though that might be just as impossible to do."

"Great to have a dad who loves you, huh?"

"You bring it on yourself, sonny. You bring it on yourself."

----

About twenty minutes later, Leo and Max were lying in bed, utterly exhausted.

"I never want to see my family again."

"I can't blame you."

"At least it's all over and we can just live in peace again…"

"Yeah."

"I hate holidays."

"Me too."

"Well, goodnight."

"…um, Leo…?"

"…what?"

"Well…it _has _been a very stressful day…and I think that the two of us could benefit from some, ah, stress relief…"

"…no."

"But I miss you…"

"No."

"But you pro-"

"No."

"Can't we just-"

"No."

"If you'd just let me-"

"No."

"But we haven't-"

"No."

"I just want to-"

"No!!"

"…-sigh- Fine. Goodnight."

Silence.

"No!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"No!"

"I'm not even-"

"No!"

-bacaw-

"No!"

"…that wasn't me."

-caw, bacaw-

"I SAID---…Max, what was that?"

". . . . .oh no. Oh hell no."

"…AHHHH! It's under our bed!!! KILL IT!!!"

"But you said you were against-"

"KILL IT!!!"

-caw?-

"It never ends!"

---fin---


End file.
